to be in charge of a child. He hadn’t even been successful watching an older kid, much less a newborn. He closed his eyes and saw his younger brother David’s face, red and sweating, his palms pressed against the glass of the car door and his mouth open in a silent scream.
No. Not now.
Pain stabbed through his gut, and he opened his eyes wide, gasping for air.
Please, Lord, let Jo come quickly.
“I can’t tell you what this means to me. Thank you. From the bottom of my heart.” And then some.
“No need to thank me, son. That’s what I’m here for—helpin’ people as the Lord sees fit to use me.” He knew she told the truth. It didn’t matter that it was the middle of the night or Christmas Eve. Jo was happy to be everyone’s go-to woman.
“Hey, Jo?” he asked when the infant’s face once again scrunched, turning from peach to red to an alarming shade of purple.
“Yes, dear?”
“You think you could possibly rustle up a clean diaper while you’re at it?”
Jo chuckled. “Don’t worry, dear. I’ll bring supplies. We’re going to manage just fine. Mark my words—everything is going to work out. For all of us.”
What Shawn wouldn’t give to have Jo’s faith right now. He wasn’t quite so certain about how things were going to work out, particularly for this precious child. All he knew for sure was that this long night was about to get longer.
* * *
Persistent pounding drew Heather Lewis from sleep so deep that she thought she was dreaming the noise—or that perhaps the pounding was just the headache that had set in earlier. She groaned and rolled over, covering her head with her feather pillow. With all the excitement of Christmas Eve, she hadn’t managed to get her little brood to bed until late. Exhaustion weighed down every bone and muscle in her body.
Though muted by her pillow, the hammering continued. Rap, rap, rap. Pause. Rap, rap, rap.
Suddenly she sat bolt upright, adrenaline pumping through her veins and bringing her to instant alertness as she thrashed around, trying to release her legs from the blanket she was caught up in.
She wasn’t dreaming about those sharp knocks. They were real. Her mind shrieked in terror.
Run. Hide.
She clutched the neck of her flannel pajamas as her pulse raged through her, her nerve endings screaming and shattering.
Adrian.
No. She shook her sleep-muddled head. Not Adrian.
Adrian was in prison in Colorado, and he had been for years. She had recently returned to her hometown in Serendipity, Texas—far, far away from the nightmare she’d once lived. She was safe.
She tucked her forehead against her knees and gulped for air, a sob of relief escaping her lips.
She was okay. She was okay.
She repeated the mantra even as the pounding on the door resumed.
“Heather?” The voice coming from the other side of the door was a woman’s, and though she sounded urgent, there wasn’t an ounce of threat in her tone.
Heather rolled to her feet and padded to the front door, taking a quick glance through the peephole for final reassurance before opening up.
“Jo?” she asked, surprised to see the boisterous owner of the local café on her doorstep in the middle of the night. “What’s wrong?”
“I tried calling but you didn’t pick up.”
“I’m sorry. I mute my phone at night so it won’t wake up the little ones.” She pressed Jo’s wringing hands. Something had to be seriously wrong for Jo to be here this late, and on Christmas Eve, to boot. “Do you want to come in?”
“Thank you, dear.” Jo followed Heather inside. “I hate to impose on you, especially at this hour, but I’m in desperate need of your assistance.”
“Sure. Anything. Whatever you need.” Heather didn’t hesitate. Growing up in Serendipity, she’d spent many happy hours at Cup O’ Jo Café, leaning on the advice of the ever-wise Jo Spencer. Heather couldn’t imagine why Jo needed her help, but it was a given that she’d do anything she could.
“A baby has been abandoned at the church. Pastor Shawn is quite flabbergasted by the event, as well you can imagine. Seeing as we don’t have a social worker here in town, I figured you were the next best thing, being a foster mother and all. You’ll come with me to see to the little one, won’t you? I already phoned your next-door neighbor, and she’ll be here shortly to make sure your kiddos are looked after while you’re gone.”
“We’re going to the chapel?” Heather was truly ready to do anything—except that. The shiver that overtook her rocked her to the very core. She hadn’t stepped through the door of a church in years, and she never wanted to do so again. Not for as long as she lived. Her stomach lurched with the thought, and the fear was paralyzing.
She opened her mouth to decline, but closed it without speaking, rubbing her lips together as she considered her options. There was a sweet, innocent baby to think about. She’d made a promise to herself that if she was presented with the opportunity, she’d be there for any and all children in need.
But this? She squeezed her eyes closed and swallowed her trepidation, searching for her resolve.
“Give me a minute to get dressed,” she said to Jo before walking back to the bedroom. She needed the time, not just to change clothes, but to decide if she was really up to this.
She slipped into jeans and a blue cotton pullover and stooped to lace her sneakers, her mind still in turmoil.
Could she do it? Would she be able to overcome years of terror and defensiveness to help the little one?
For the baby’s sake, she had to try.
Once her next-door neighbor had arrived to watch the children, Heather and Jo set off. The drive from Heather’s house to the chapel was only a few short minutes, but to Heather the distance seemed agonizingly long. Jo bustled out of her old truck the moment she parked it. Heather held back, clutching her hands together in her lap as she gathered her courage. After what felt like an hour but was probably no more than a few seconds, she forced herself to exit the vehicle. A wave of dizziness immediately overtook her and she grasped at the rim of the truck to keep her balance.
Air in. Air out, she coaxed herself. When these panic attacks hit, her breath came in shallow gasps and she hyperventilated, resulting in the light-headedness she was now experiencing. She was so...angry that she couldn’t control her reactions. It was embarrassing. Humiliating.
“Heather, are you coming?” Jo had made it up to the chapel’s red double doors before she glanced back and realized Heather wasn’t following her. The old red-headed woman’s face instantly crumpled with concern. “What is it, dear?”
Suppressing a shiver, Heather
